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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260771">Meteorite</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/openacademia/pseuds/openacademia'>openacademia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reboot: Heroes of Aceset City [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft Youtubers, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conventional Superpowers, Gen, I HAVE A BETA NOW, Nonconventional Superpowers, Other, SUCK IT, Superheroes, You Have Been Warned, dream on the run, ily fox, loosely inspired, original worldbuilding, superhero au, the ocs are background characters, there's lore im sorry lol, you can pry superpowers from my cold dead hands</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:15:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/openacademia/pseuds/openacademia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after falling from his prestigious place at the top of the pyramid of vigilantes that keep Arcset City safe, ex-hero Dream appears to have stooped to crime and cruelty to fulfill his own ends. Friends, rivals and shadows vie to catch him.</p><p>Meanwhile, the rest of his team is left questioning. Is it true? Can they catch him and find out, or will he disappear or be sought out by others for their own gains?</p><p> </p><p>Inspired (in spirit) by Marissa Meyer's Renegades.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Darryl Noveschosch &amp; Sapnap, Zak Ahmed &amp; Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Darryl Noveschosch &amp; Sapnap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Reboot: Heroes of Aceset City [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. turnaround and vault</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He didn’t stop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t seen him move. One second he was a slightly shadowed figure in their vision, green fabric standing out like a sore thumb against the wet cinderblocks of the rainy street he was hiding on. The next, he was gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting two blocks away, on a rooftop, they hadn’t had the good sense to start running. But not more than five minutes later, when they saw their would-be quarry standing two rooftops away from them and running straight for them, mask white against the orange rain haze, they’d turned and run like hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>They still were, feet pounding the rooftops with the rain and dodging obstacles, left, right, over the top. One after the other, jumping and pushing further and further ahead while he gained on them. Exhaustion hurt just as much as the utter terror did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lungs and throat burned. Every time they looked over their shoulder, he was still there. And closer. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>closer.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was relentless</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They hurdled an AC fan on the top of the next building, clipping their toes and having to take a loud banging step on the other side in order to push themselves to a ledge. Seconds later, he cleared it completely, landing silently on the other side and vaulting the ledge almost in the same motion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ran. He pursued. A gap approached, too wide to jump across. They leapt anyway, praying as their stomach lurched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bang! </span>
  </em>
  <span> Onto the fire escape of the opposite building below they landed, scrambling for the cast-iron ladder and half-slipping, half-clambering down at top speed. Floor after floor, ladder after ladder, until finally they reached the final flight--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whoosh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A blur streaked past them, and seconds before they dropped to the ground, they looked down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First thing they saw, gleaming, long, and sharp, was the knife pointed at their throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There you are. I wondered who was following me,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream, the fallen darling of the city’s resident vigilante group, stared down his stalker from behind a plastic white mask and a knife. A cheap slick raincoat reflected the streetlamps, and his black jeans, though scuffed, weren’t dusty in the least, as compared to the extremely dirty and now sodden jeans of his stalker. The acid-green hoodie that the stalker had been told to watch for kept the rain off his face, and peeked out from under the raincoat like a mocking, terrible fashion statement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stalker dropped to the ground, ankles aching from the impact. They slowly put their hands up in surrender.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who got you to follow me? Wilbur? Techno? They’d better be paying you really well for this--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stalker’s leg kicked Dream’s own from under him, and they jumped to their feet towards the front of the alleyway. They drew a knife from the back of their jeans, and backed towards the street. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small white blur skated beneath them, and the stalker smacked into a solid force in the mouth of the alleyway. They stumbled back, turning around reflexively.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice try,” Dream said in front of them, reaching a hand towards them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stalker tried a desperate slash of their knife without a second thought, biting into Dream’s hand, and dashed towards the street. Before they’d made it three steps--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They cried out from a sudden sharp pain in their abdomen. The force of the blow threw them into the wall, and they crumpled down, clutching the long, thin knife that had just made a substantial hole in their side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was yanked out without ceremony. A barely bit-down scream escaped behind their mask, but they continued clutching the wound with all the force they could muster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream crouched down in front of them. They weakly looked up underneath their own hood, lenses for eyes embedded in a red wooden mask catching the streetlight. The white smiley mask looked back with its blank, blithe smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even crouched down like he was now, Dream was much taller than his would-be pursuer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” he said as he loomed over them. He knelt down next to their fallen knapsack. He rummaged around until he found a small, inexpensive cellphone tucked away in a side pocket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They watched in silence as he dialed a few numbers. He held the phone up to his ear through the first few ringtones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello? 911, what’s your--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dropped the phone on the ground. The operator continued her spiel and looking for the person who’d called, only to receive no answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stalker, still curled protectively around their injury, looked down at the fallen phone and  through those stupid lens eyes. Kind of like George, if his goggles also covered his whole face so he looked like a praying mantis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on. I’m not that cruel.” He went back to their bag, rummaging around some more until he found a water bottle, some sunflower seeds, a couple apples, and a granola bar. Good provisions. “Ambulance is on its way here, you can tell them what happened if you like. Or not. That’s up to you, I guess.” He bundled up the food, stuffing the granola bar in his coat pocket and everything else in his backpack. “You don’t have a water bottle, do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bug-like mask stared back at him dumbly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess that was too much to ask. I did kind of just stab you.’ he stood up, retrieving his knife from the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smaller knife beside it, fallen from the red-bug-stalker’s hand, gleamed with a blue sheen on the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picked it up. “Addyn-laced knife?” he said, examining it gingerly. The drug left a telltale blue sheen on anything it touched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bug person offered no comment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought for a second. “You came prepared to fight and disable someone’s ability. Yours isn’t useful for fighting, since you were watching me with it from ninety yards away without binoculars.” He paused, remembering the way they’d held the knife. “You wanted to even the playing field. Would’ve been useless. I’m not sure if you can even hold this right, and minus the Addyn, it’s just a knife.” He tossed the knife back beside the stalker, who winced as it clattered to the ground next to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t come after me again. You’re outmatched. I’ll do much more damage next time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream, ex-hero of Arcset City, left a small figure behind him crouched in the rain. Blood seeped out from their wounds, down their limbs, and deep into the city sewers below.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Misconception and Interception</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter doesn't have a wonderful ending; it was late when i finished it . prolly gonna rewrite later. enjoy in the meantime!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He pushed away from the screen, rolling away on the office chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blank, grey walls around him were lit solely by the light from the tablet. His profile, already pale, was turned ghostlike by the bleaching glare of the screen. It wasn’t a flattering look, and his eyes felt burned out from the long hours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew it was his fault. He knew he had to keep an eye on this now, lest it get out of hand and cause more problems. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The informant had been picked up by the ambulance by now, barely protesting when the paramedics had lifted them onto a stretcher aside from a couple flinches. Dream had left, chasing greener pastures in the form of… a grocery store where no one would recognize him, probably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What to do, what to do?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There most likely wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> that could be done. Not until Dream was apprehended, at least. But that couldn’t happen just yet. There was still more precautions to be taken, more experiments to be run…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“George. George!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George woke up with a start, in a dingy, abandoned apartment filled with dusty footprints, rat poop, and two idiots on a stakeout.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick was shaking his leg with one hand, face filled with urgency as he clutched his binoculars in the other. He glanced outside and stage-whispered to George again. “He’s on the move.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s what?” George slapped hair out of his eyes and grabbed the binoculars. He shoved him out of the way, leaning forward so he could see out the window into the street.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The building they’d been looking at, an equally dingy-looking parkade, squatted dark and unmoving across the street. The cardboard cot, lamp, and small pile of garbage they’d spotted the day before in a second-floor window sat scattered and unoccupied. Even more importantly, the figure in the green sweater, the one they’d been shadowing since the day before, had vanished.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When-- How--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno man, I just looked outside and he was gone. We gotta go,” Nick said. His bandanna was askew, his hair mussed, and George guessed he hadn’t fixed it since George had woken him up a couple hours earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George joined Nick in stuffing their things into the duffel bag. “How long were you looking away, Sapnap?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long?” George stared at Nick, willing him to look up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! Like, five minutes, or something,” Nick muttered. He picked up his phone from the floor guiltily and tucked it into his pocket.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could be getting away again as we speak! We have to go.” George hefted the bag onto his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said!” Nick bolted down the stairs barely behind George. “I swear, I was just texting Bad for like, two minutes. He said he had some information.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sappitus Nappitus, the day will come someday when I will kill you, I swear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They came out onto the street, the morning sun filtering through the light smog and diffusing across the roofs and dingy storefronts. George scanned back and forth for the most likely direction he would have gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did I do?” Nick protested. “I was keeping on top of our information! You told me off last time when I left Zak on read, and he wasn’t even saying anything we didn’t already know-!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Priorities, Sapnap!” George squinted, scanning the rooftops around the broken-down parkade they’d been watching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick huffed. He pointed towards a roof behind the parkade. “Over there, behind the laundry place. It’s low and close to the train station, he’d definitely head there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Come on!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George sprinted across the empty street, barely missing a slow scooter holding an old woman who had just come out of the laundromat minutes earlier. She cried out in a croaking voice, clutching her laundry in a worn pink bag.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry ma’am!” Nick maneuvered around her a comfortable distance before chasing after George.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman watched them go, thinking pleasantly of days gone by with her grandkids. She brushed back long gray hair with her hands, and took off down the street towards her small apartment with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>put-put-put </span>
  </em>
  <span>on her scooter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, George and Nick vaulted up and onto rooftops, running and scanning feverishly for any glimpse of green or a white plastic mask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Up. Down. Across a ledge. Slide down a ramp and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oooOOOOOH that jump was bigger than I expected,</span>
  </em>
  <span> over and over until they were out of breath and out of any hope of catching up to who they were looking for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well--? What do you have--to say for yourself?” George heaved out between gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Nick, breathing just as heavily, retorted: “Nothing! I-- didn’t do anything--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We lost him again! I’d call that something--” George started,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--Well, it wasn’t my fault that Bad had urgent information!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” George sat down heavily on the rooftop of the small italian bistro they appeared to have ended up on top of. He gestured to the city around them, the downtown skyline visible in the distance. “We appear to have time now, so what did Bad have to say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick sat down beside him, head in his hands. “He said to call him,” he muttered. He looked up towards the sky, dropping his hands into his lap. “I can’t believe we lost him again!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call Bad. And, yeah, it’s not the first time, but whatever. We can find him again,” George muttered half-heartedly as he pulled out his phone, dusting off his stakeout pants as he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stabbed at the numbers on the phone with his finger. When he finished, he tapped the speaker button and held it between him and Nick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stared at the phone while it went through dial tones, then through ringing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>”Hello-o?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> a voice chimed on the other end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bad, it’s us. You said you had news?” Nick said, trying to sound cheerful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sapnap! George! You muffinheads! Yes, yes, yes, I have news!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The mic rustled, like Bad was moving around excitedly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, my goodness, I’ve been waiting for you guys to call. It’s about Dream!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George leaned in. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>”Yeah! Gosh, I found it like an hour ago and I’ve been waiting so long to get it to you guys. What were you doing, anyway? What took you so long?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were on Dream’s trail, but we lost him,” George said. “He was right in front of us, too. Sapnap got distracted by you texting him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick cringed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span> ”Oh. That’s…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad trailed off. He paused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George felt a pang in his chest. Yeah, losing Dream had been extremely disappointing… but he already regretted making Bad think it was his fault. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, George. I wouldn’t have texted if I knew you were so close… I’m such a muffin.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s ok. I should’ve kept an eye out, you’re fine, Bad.” Nick gave George a look. “But whatever you have better be good,” he said jokingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it better,” George said with a half smile. “Otherwise you’re fired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George and Nick’s eyes met, making a silent promise to not upset Bad again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, it is, I promise! See, I looked at the security cams, from the pharmacy.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> A keyboard clicked on the other end. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You guys know that the body was found in an alcove next to the cleaning closet with the safe, right? But the store cameras couldn’t see that angle.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>”Ok, I checked the tape much earlier.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad kept tapping on the keyboard. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Here, I wanna send you the footage-- this could be so important, guys, I really hope so--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad?” George asked. “Could you just, maybe tell us what’s so important?” He bit his lip. “It takes a long time to send videos to my phone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, yeah! So, the pharmacist--um--may he rest in peace…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad said hastily.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “He doesn’t appear on the cams earlier that night after seven o’ clock, at all!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Nick said. “Couldn’t he just have been sleeping? He lived on top of the pharmacy, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I thought that too! The thing is, the stairway to upstairs is on the other side of the building, through the view of multiple cameras. He would’ve had to pass through a lot of them, and we would have seen him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So… he must’ve been in the corner where he was found since that afternoon. Maybe Dream found him there too!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad, I don’t see where you’re,” George said. He leaned in further anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m going--” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad paused, taking a deep breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“George, what if Dream found him dead? What if Dream wasn’t the one who killed him?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George sat back, leaning away from the phone. He took a deep breath as well, steadying his nerves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Bad… that’s--” Nick started. “That’s... unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know, right? Dream could still be innocent! I bet if we just talked to him--”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Bad. That can’t be true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“--then-- What?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick looked at George, confused and sort of hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I--” George took another deep breath. “It’s a good idea. But Tubbo and Wilbur were there, remember? They’d been there together at around nine to pick up something for Tommy. They both saw Dream, with the knife.” He stopped, head hurting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick looked down, face set grimly. He nodded. Bad was silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you really going to say we can’t trust them? They’re-- Tubbo especially. And Wilbur. We know them, they’re not going to lie to us. They don’t want Dream to have killed anyone any more than we do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was quiet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick fidgeted with his headband, absently straightening it so it finally sat straight on his head. George stared at his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The answer finally came, with such a dejected tone that Nick and George instantly bristled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Bad! We all want this not to be happening just as much as you do! I just…” Nick grasped for comforting words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s just that we really can’t not trust our friends right now. You’re fine.” George rubbed his temples. “It’s ok.” He looked out across the rooftops, and down into the streets, before movement in an alley caught his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bad sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re right. It’s just that I watched the whole footage, and it turns out to be a waste of time anyway.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something thumped on the other side. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Muffinhead,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he muttered</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... How long was that footage, Bad?” Nick asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“--Uh…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick shook his head. “Bad, did you stay up all night? How much sleep did you get?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad, you really can’t do that. Especially with Dream gone, we need you to--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George squinted, and flipped down his goggles. “Sapnap, do you see that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick stopped reprimanding Bad for a second. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m getting something. Down there.” George focused on it, honing his awareness of the surroundings until the edges of his vision began to fade and dim just slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there. There it was. The faintest hint of an ability. He could sense it, flaring at almost the very edge of his abilities’ radius, even expanded as it was with the goggles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s him!” George said. He jumped down and over, hurriedly fumbling with the end call button on his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s him--? Good lu--” </span>
  </em>
  <span>George hung up on Bad, and Nick scrambled behind him, quickly catching up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of them recklessly made it across the street, dodging mailboxes and trashcans and running on the road like madmen. George could feel the blip on his senses stronger, and closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It… wasn’t moving. Dream appeared to have stopped in the alleyway, which was unusual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George looked at Sapnap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d flattened himself against the left wall at the mouth of the darkened alleyway. He mouthed at George, </span>
  <em>
    <span>in here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sapnap nodded back. Tendrils of darkness started to gather at the tips of Sapnap’s fingers, and spread to the wall. He crouched at the ready, waiting for George’s signal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They couldn’t let him get away again. He’d done it one time too many.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George heard a shift from inside the alleyway, an inhale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He signaled Sapnap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within a split-second, Sapnap burst into the alley. A giant swathe of darkness swept over the figure in the green hoodie as they turned to look. They yelled, and the second they tried to move to escape, Sapnap was there, tackling and pinning them to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>George’s spirits soared, then sank, as he heard the voice that loudly began to cuss Sapnap out as they struggled on the ground. Sapnap shouted in pain. The figure struggled, then suddenly seemed to phase out of Sapnap’s grasp, leaping up into a fighting stance a few feet back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was angry. And female. And very, very Irish.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell was that for? Get outta here right now, or I swear I’ll cut your ass up like a Thanksgiving turkey! Don’t think I won’t, you-- Hold on.” The hood fell back off of the head, and a sheet of faded purplish hair fell out, accompanied by a sharp pair ef eyeliner-bedecked eyes that could only belong to one person prone to skulking about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“George? The hell?” She looked at him, then to Nick, sprawled on the ground, looking quite in pain. “Sapnap?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Minx? The hell are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick groaned, rolling over onto his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minx stepped up beside him and tapped his shoulder with her toe. “Really, Nappitus, you gotta protect your nuts. They’re called ‘jewels’ for a reason, yanno.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nick just groaned louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hahaha george and sapnap's powers reveeeeeeeeeealedddd</p><p>a couple of them go a little more indepth than they seem to? but george can sense powers. and sapnap is edgy. also there were some funky things with the names going on? mehhhhhh ill edit it out later lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>cont. from previous chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“...I said I’m sorry, Minx,” Nick said for the umpteenth time in the past ten minutes, now sat up against the side of the--thankfully, pretty clean, if dusty-- alleyway. He was resting on a flattened cardboard box on top of a convenient stack of bricks, against a cinderblock apartment building.</p><p>“You should be!” Minx snapped, standing down the alleyway from him. “Scared me half to death, jumpin’ out of nowhere and blinding me, and then tackling me like a great bloody rugby player.” She hopped up onto a nearby dumpster, crossing her arms and legs. “You’re lucky I didn’t shank you.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you shank him?”  George wondered aloud as he stepped in from the front of the alley.</p><p>“George!” Nick hissed.</p><p>“What? It’s a legitimate question! I didn’t say I wanted her to shank you!”</p><p>“Well, I don’t know, I don’t want to think about my guts spilled out all over the pavement, maybe? Jesus.”</p><p>“That’s fair,” Minx interrupted, “I wouldn’t want to think about my guts on the ground either.” She paused, then leaned back on her hands. “But just because you asked, George--”</p><p>Nick rolled his eyes.</p><p>Minx wrapped her arms around herself, tugging her sweater tight. “--It got really cold all of a sudden. I just wanted to get out of there, even before I had a chance to bust this darlin’ out.” She tapped a knife holster on the side of her leg. “Unexpected, is all, I suppose,” she concluded.</p><p>“Sorry about that.”</p><p>She looked at Nick. “So you did that?”</p><p>“Yeah, the cold’s sort of… a new thing?” George said. “We’re still working it out.”</p><p>“<em> I’m </em>still working it out, he means.” Nick said, sitting up straighter, the edge of a proud smile twisting his mouth. </p><p>Minx blinked. “Wow, Sapnap, got a new toy, did you? Someone come up with a super-gadget for the black hole man?”</p><p>“Nope.” The smile spread wider.</p><p>“He’s practicing with a couple ways to use his powers,” George clarified for him. “Some quirks we noticed months ago, and we’re working on ways to weaponize them.”</p><p>Nick made a noise of protest. Minx hummed in interest, ignoring him. </p><p>“That’s really cool… pun not intended, thank you,” she added, glaring at Nick before he could say anything. “Why the cold? It’s uncomfy, sure. But if you want to catch people, that’s an odd way to use it.” She leaned forward, studying them closely, eyes thoughtful.</p><p>George and Nick shared a glance. “It’s… kind of because we confused you with Dream.”</p><p>Minx’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly. "Oh," she finally managed, her fingernails tapping on the lid of the dumpster. "Makes sense. That's actually quite smart, now that i think about it."</p><p>"Great. So now we've explained why, let's go, and--" Nick started, cut off by a sharp glare from Minx.</p><p>"Not so fast, Sappy." She hopped off the dumpster, spreading her arms wide, indicating her person. “What part of this looked like the bloody Green Giant Dream to you?”</p><p>“Well, your power, for one. We were tracking that in the first place.” George said, taking it as an actual question.</p><p>“Yeah, and your sweater.” Nick said.</p><p>“My what--?” Minx started. She looked down in a state of confusion.</p><p>“Who else would be sneaking around in Day-Glo green in the dark?” he added defensively.</p><p>Minx didnt answer. She made direct eye contact with Nick, staring him down until he started feeling his stomach churn.</p><p>“First of all, any random homeless bum could be skulking about wearing a green shirt, and if that’s the way you’re looking for someone like Dream--” she shook her head. “God help us.”</p><p>George cringed. Nick shrank back a bit, his pride from earlier gone.</p><p>Nick knew that the way they were going about looking for Dream was kind of haphazard. After two weeks, and only occasionally getting close to Dream only for him to slip out of their hands right after, they were getting desperate. Also, since the more surveillance-oriented members of the team back at the Server were increasingly occupied with the looming threat of the Raiders’ next incursion, the team searching for Dream had dwindled. Now, Nick and George were spearheading the hunt for him, with Bad providing support while also dealing with some of the fallout Dream had left behind, logistics-wise. </p><p>Nick would’ve actually asked Minx for help, but she was a free agent, making a living outside of their group. She wasn’t close enough to them for them to know even her real name. There was no reason for her to give them , and especially couldn’t spend all her time looking for Dream, either.</p><p>“Second of all--” She grabbed a fistful of her own hoodie. “This is <em>orange</em> <em> . </em>”</p><p>George’s mouth formed an <em> o.  </em></p><p>“I know your colourblind ass wouldn’t be able to tell, George, babe, but--” she turned to Nick, leaving George sputtering. “--Sapnap, you really couldn’t see? Or are you just that dumb?” </p><p>George looked at Nick questioningly. Nick bristled.</p><p>“I’m not dumb! Look, I got tired, it was dark,” Nick snapped. “George took the first watch on you since I was exhausted getting up that dumb building in the first place.” He folded his arms over his chest, scowling.</p><p>“You guys really were proper stalking me, weren’t you?” Minx said in wonder. She waved the thought away. “Ok, fine. I still don’t believe how you could do that, but, even besides that…” she looked at George. “My power isn’t anything like Dream’s, I thought you could tell the difference? Like that time with Tommy,” she offered.</p><p>George took a deep breath. “Ok, well… It doesn’t really work like that. I can tell the difference, but you and Dream’s abilities…” He grasped for the words. “Feel… kinda similar?”</p><p>“How? I do my ghosty thing, and he does his own…” She gesticulated, making a face, “...thing.”</p><p>Nick understood the sentiment. Dream’s power was incredibly hard to describe without sounding… stupid.</p><p>“You said Techno’s is kind of the same too,” Nick huffed at George.</p><p>“Techno’s? His is even more different-er. How could they look the same?” she asked. </p><p>“Different-er? Ok! Shut up.” George said.</p><p>Nick and Minx fell silent.</p><p>“I don’t <em>see </em>abilities. I feel them. Being able to see them helps, and so do my goggles, but that’s it.”<br/>“As for Techno, and you, and Dream...It’s more like, <em>categorically</em>, they’re more similar.” George said, rubbing his temples. “It’s really hard to explain, but I can tell the difference between, say, Sapnap and Bad really easily.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Sapnap’s is like Wilbur’s. It feels really… uh, sharp. And Bad’s feels heavy, like fog.”</p><p><br/>“Sharp? Edgy, more like.” Minx snorted.</p><p>“I can’t help it if my power is sharp,” Nick said, shrugging.</p><p>“Ugh, forget I said anything,” George muttered.</p><p>“No, no no!” Minx pleaded. “Keep going, this is cool, I’ll just shut up.” She sat down cross-legged against the front of the dumpster, probably getting her pants dusty in the process.</p><p>George gave her a dirty look. “Anyway, yours and Dream’s are, like, hot. Techno’s too, though he’s a lot hotter.”</p><p>Nick snickered. </p><p>“Shut up, Slapnut,” Minx said offhandedly.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“Anyway, this has been really interesting.” Minx got up, dusting off her pants. “I have to get back to work, and I’ll let you guys get back to finding Dream.”</p><p>“Sure,” Nick said. He got up as well, leaning against the wall.</p><p>“Yeah,” George said.</p><p>“Been a pleasure seeing you, George. And Sapnap, I did see you.”</p><p>Nick swore at her.</p><p>George laughed. Then, his phone went off. </p><p>Minx looked at his pocket. “Something important? You should have your phone on silent when you’re stalking someone.”</p><p>George ignored her, digging his phone out of his pocket. He pressed the green button, noting the caller id. “Bad, what is it?” he said, lifting the phone to his ear.</p><p>“Why is Bad calling again?” Nick muttered. </p><p>At the same time, Minx seemed to notice her phone go off too. She lifted it out of her pocket and started tapping on it with an intense expression on her face.</p><p>George cocked his head, listening to a muffled Bad’s voice. His face went from annoyance, to surprise, to confusion. </p><p>“His record’s been broken at the Gauntlet? Why are you telling--” he said. </p><p>Nick’s eyes widened. He immediately dug out his phone to check.</p><p>Bad’s quiet voice got more frantic, and then stopped. </p><p>Minx tapped away on her phone at lightning speed. A smile spread across her face. </p><p>“Got it. Thanks Bad, we’ll make a plan ASAP.” George hung up, then turned to Nick and Minx.</p><p>“Somebody broke Dream’s record down at the Gauntlet a couple hours ago,” he said. He pursed his lips. “Bad thinks Dream might be nearby.”</p><p>“Oh my god. The Gauntlet’s neutral ground,” Nick said, pressing his hand to his mouth. His mind raced. “If he goes there to try for the record again--”</p><p>“--you all can catch him, right?” Minx finished, triumphantly looking up from her phone with a grin. </p><p>George spun to her. “We have to go, like right now. We have so many things we need to prepare if we want to catch Dream, like have a <em> real </em> chance at catching him.”</p><p>“Don’t be so hasty. Actually, I just got word that I might be able to help you.” </p><p>“Really?” Nick said, looking at her.</p><p>She grinned at him, waving her phone in her hand. “Yep. Friend just texted.” She put her phone back in her pocket. “Looks like our talk today isn’t quite over yet, boys. If my friend’s in the right place, now--” she stepped up to them, patting Nick on the shoulder. “--You’ll have Dream like a fish in a barrel, come tomorrow morning.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Tower was a grey, rectangular monolith in the heart of Aceset City’s Maywell district. </p><p>Maywell, before the Collapse, had been home to several slightly upper scale apartment and office buildings. Now, it was in the same dilapidated, scavenged state as the rest of the city, albeit slightly nicer. The parts of it that aren’t terrible-looking are home to Team Reboot.</p><p>Team Reboot protected Aceset City as it was recovering from the Collapse, helping recreate infrastructure and institutions that were dismantled or destroyed. It wasn’t their only job. Between rebuilding schools, reorganizing garbage disposal and water systems, and general bureaucratic chicanery, Team Reboot also fought crime on the behalf of UNOH, the United Organization of Heroes. </p><p>Yes, UNOH was a stupid name belonging to a card game. Yes, everyone was aware. And yes, UNOH was the most powerful establishment in the new world order. Plus, there weren't any copyright laws after the apocalypse, so nobody cared.</p><p>If this makes this into the final draft, I’m sorry, but I’m way too tired to explain the rest of my worldbuilding right now, so you can infer from context. </p><p>Right now, the Tower was home to another idiot staying up too late.</p><p>Wilbur was on the verge of falling asleep onto his Bunsen burners. As that would present multiple issues (injuries to his face with potential for complications aside), he was debating going to his centrifuges or comparing some charts to do something less risky with the possibility of falling asleep.</p><p>He was teetering unsteadily at this point. It was probably a good idea to turn in for the day. The Raiders were going to attack at any point and Dream was rumoured to be making an appearance somewhere tonight.</p><p>The Dream Capture Unit thought he would be at the Gauntlet. But Wilbur thought differently.</p><p>Dream was clever, maybe he’d use it as a distraction to enter the Tower. That was something Wilbur could not let happen at any cost. His head swam with the image of Dream’s mask looking out from over the pharmacist’s body. Wilbur’s hands could feel Tubbo’s shoulders underneath them from when he’d yanked him back roughly, trying to shield him. </p><p>He shook his head and went back to work. After all, PTSD was no excuse for not working, right?</p><p>“Wilbur?”</p><p>A voice drifted in from the hall. Wilbur turned to see Niki darkening the hallway, face bare and full of undisguised exhaustion and disappointment. She was rubbing her eyes and wearing pajamas.</p><p>It occurred to Wilbur that it might be 3am and not 3pm as he’d previously thought. That was another 12 hours without sleep spent in the lab.</p><p>“What are you still doing up?” Niki said. “Go to bed. I know this is important to you, but just…” She gestured helplessly, tired hand pointing towards the barracks. “Go to bed. You’re not going to do anything good tonight.”</p><p>“Fine.” Wilbur started shutting things down. “Are you sure I can’t stay up some more?” he said with his winningest smile.</p><p>Niki glared at him.</p><p>He laughed miserably. “I thought I’d try.”</p><p>“Let me help.” She helped him turn off lab equipment and clean up some busywork, and while he was shutting off his computers, she wiped down test tubes.</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Go to bed.”</p><p>Then on his way back, he started feeling wary. What if Dream really did show up to the Tower? What would he do? Take things? Threaten Wilbur?</p><p>Wilbur and Tubbo were the ones who had found him there in the first place. At this point though, Tubbo didn’t remember what had happened that night, like at all.</p><p>It was all for the better, though, really. The sight of Dream over the body was traumatic enough. And that seemed to be the only thing Tubbo remembered, unfortunately. It didn’t stop him and Will from getting absolutely grilled by the small volunteer police force they had, and the rest of their friends, no matter how much Sylvee and Eret protested.</p><p>As he was thinking on this absolutely delightful subject, Will looked up at the hallway. There, he saw a frighteningly familiar figure. Standing in the hallway, back turned to him, was a tall guy with a green sweater and light brown hair.</p><p>Will stopped in his thankfully pretty quiet tracks, standing stock-still. His heart started building, rising into his throat. </p><p>Almost unconsciously he felt his power gathering in his hand. His feet started moving towards the guy, his heart roaring in his ears. </p><p>
  <em>Dream?</em>
</p><p>The man in the hall turned. His face… all too familiar, and most definitely <em>him</em>. Horror rushed through Wilbur, almost bringing him to his knees--</p><p>Then the man, the wraith, the <em>specter</em> who'd haunted Wilbur day and night as of late, opened his mouth and totally ruined the moment.</p><p>“Oh, sup Wilbur?” he said, in a voice very much devoid of Dream’s American accent. </p><p>Wilbur choked.</p><p>“Tommy!” The power gathering in his hands went out like a light, and so did the fear in his chest. He was still mad though. He all but sprinted forward, grabbing Tommy-in-the-form-of-Dream’s shoulders.</p><p>“What are you doing? This is no time to play pranks. You know how dangerous Dream is right now! I was almost about to kill you!” </p><p>Tommy looked down at himself, looking surprised. “Oh.” He patted himself down. “Am i Dream, right now, then?” he said plaintively. </p><p>Wilbur glared at him.</p><p>Tommy cracked up, detransforming before his eyes. He shrank down to his regular height and build, his features morphing back to his own extremely wide eyes and pale curly mop. He wiped away tears of laughter.“Ah yes, I didn't realize. Sorry Wilbur.”</p><p>Wilbur practically was seeing red at this point. He grabbed Tommy's wrist, and flicked Tommy upside the head with his clipboard.</p><p>“Ow! Ok, fine! Fine, fine!!” Tommy said, batting Wilbur’s clipboard away. “Wasn’t it a little funny? Your face was priceless.”</p><p>Wilbur began to yell at him, and herd him back to his room. Things about <em> you’re ill, you can’t be out and about like this, </em> and <em> that was so irresponsible! Don’t you ever dare do anything like that again. </em></p><p>A few minutes passed before Wilbur asked, “Are you listening while I’m talking to you?”</p><p>“No, not really.” Tommy grinned at him in a way he probably thought was endearing, but really just made Wilbur want to throttle him.</p><p>Wilbur sighed. Then he noticed something in Tommy’s ear.</p><p>“Is that a headset?” he asked, snatching at it. “Tommy, those are for patrols. You can’t steal those.” </p><p>Tommy seized up, his face comically guilty.</p><p>“Hold on. Is there someone at the other end?”</p><p>Tommy, once again looked comically guilty.</p><p>“Tommy, you’re not even supposed to be out of bed! Is someone helping you?” If it was Tubbo, Wilbur was going to wring his neck later.</p><p>Tommy waved him away. “No way, big man! I did this all by myself.” He put his hands on his hips defiantly. “You seriously underestimate my crime-planning skills. I could have taken over the world, if it wasn’t for--”</p><p>He suddenly stumbled. Wilbur caught him by the shoulder, keeping him from falling. He shakily turned around, pain and fear and confusion flickering over his face.</p><p>Wilbur watched as the emotions started being accompanied by <em> faces. </em>Fundy's nose, Niki's eyes and brows, Wilbur's own hair, all swam by as he watched in horror. Actual facial structures belonging to people he did and didn't recognize, twisting and warping Tommy’s face in a frightening flow.</p><p>He suddenly crumpled into Wilbur’s arms like a stack of wet noodles, gasping for breath.</p><p>Willbur shouted. “Oh, no no no. Tommy!! Tommy!” He gulped down what felt like bile coming up his throat before he held Tommy closer, continuing to shout.</p><p>His screams apparently alerted someone, because a bunch of people started running down the hallway. Fundy’s hair was askew, and he was wearing some rumpled clothes he’d probably slept in. Niki looked similarly untidy, but now wide-awake.</p><p>Fundy looked down with an expression of horror. “I’ll get Bad. Or Phil,” he said, before turning around to get his phone. “Shit, Bad’s not here. Where’s Phil?”</p><p>Niki immediately took a knee, taking Tommy from Wilbur’s hands and laying him down on the floor in recovery position. “Tommy, can you hear me?”</p><p>Tommy groaned. His face was slowing down its rapid transformations, but he still looked terrified, pained, and only semi-conscious.</p><p>She looked up at Wilbur. “Why was he out of bed?” An edge of panic was creeping into her voice.</p><p>“I don’t know! Some-- some stupid prank, I found him looking like Dream--”</p><p>Another set of footsteps and heavy breathing came running down the corridor.</p><p>“Tommy!” A voice shouted, cracking in the middle of the shout. Tubbo all but collapsed next to Niki and Tommy, a forgotten earpiece falling from his hand.</p><p>Wilbur watched in a haze as Phil came and helped Tommy up, reviving him with a brief, colourful light show accompanied with a fatherly smile and helping hand to sling his arm over his shoulder as he walked back to his room. Fundy gently herded Tubbo back to his room as well, rubbing his back and murmuring comforting words. </p><p><em>The poor kid,</em> a part of him thought in the back of his mind. <em>Found one of his role models as a murderer and his friend is terminally ill because of his own superpowers. Who decided to fuck Tubbo over? What an arse.</em></p><p>Niki finally placed a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, shocking him out of his stupor.</p><p>“Will, you’re in really bad shape. You should go to bed now.”</p><p>Wilbur nodded mutely. He decided to get walking now, stiffly as he could. He’d been no help to Tommy just about now and it was terrible.</p><p>  Then, his cell phone rang. </p><p>He sighed, digging it out and holding it to his ear. </p><p>“Wilbur, I can get it--” Niki said, reaching for his cell.</p><p>“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Wilbur said, waving her off. Duty and misery called, and who was Wilbur to deny it? “It’s Wilbur,” he said into the phone. “This needs to be good.”</p><p>Someone coughed on the other end. “It… kind of is. Honestly, I’d ask if this is a bad time, but…”</p><p>Wilbur sighed. “Ok, Alyssa, it’s fine. Just tell me what you need.”</p><p>Alyssa paused. “Actually, are you sure you can’t hand off to someone else right now, Will? This might be… better for someone else to hear. You sound bad.”</p><p>“Just… tell me what the problem is.” Wilbur said, exasperated.</p><p>“Ok, then.” Alyssa said. “We have Bad, George, and Sapnap at the front gate.”</p><p>“And why is this important? Just let them in!”</p><p>Alyssa took a deep breath. “Wilbur.... They have Dream.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey, guys, sorry for the short update. I have a few more scenes written out, but didn't manage to get any typed up fully before Wednesday/Thursday rolled around. So, if i get anything done super fast, I'll add it to this chapter. I'm planning on having longer chapters now because fics with longer chapters personally appeal to me, sooooooo keep an eye out!</p><p>Random musing: it's occurred to me that a lot of fanfic is by fans, for fans. That's not really what I'm striving for with Meteorite.<br/>Back in the day, i used to play superheroes with a friend of mine. I was a magic bunny and she was a witch, but we beat bad guys together and were super cool doing it! I made comics and wrote stories for us, and seeing myself do EPIC THINGS in a story felt like the best thing ever, even if it wasn't really me.<br/>These creators, some of them just by existing, entertain and give me a pick me up sometimes. They've inspired me and I want to give back. So once this fic gets farther along, I'll be sending it to some of them, to return the favour of seeing yourself do EPIC THINGS and have LOTS OF FUN doing it. I don't know if they'll ever see it, but I'm hoping for the best. :) and i can give you all an epic story along the way!<br/>Buckle up! From here on out, it's going to be a crazy ride.</p><p>Love,<br/>Tori (openacademia)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The man formerly known as Dream sat on a cot in a fairly ordinary-looking room. It was a bit plain, but was about the right size for the small office it had used to be before. The desk remained from its office days, and the room was also furnished with a cot, a small sink, and a yellow button with a piece of laminated paper stuck to it that read: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ring if you need to go to the bathroom! :)”</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hodgepodge look of the room hid its strength. The walls were reinforced, the locks were inaccessible from the inside, and the ventilation that serviced the room had an attachment that sprayed Addyn into the air. The aerosolized drug was odourless and harmless, but prevented any use of powers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Addyn spray, Nikki knew, was something Clay had come up with himself. She wondered if it bothered him, to be the one who designed your own prison and not be able to escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d been watching him on the cameras since Darryl and Nick had shephereded him into the holding cell. He’d spent a few minutes laying on the bed, a few examining the vents, and a few pacing about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was favouring his left leg. Hadn’t Bad mentioned he’d taken a bad fall earlier, when they’d caught him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki grabbed a first aid kit that hung on the side of the monitor room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Going out?” Eret said offhandedly, almost asleep in his chair. He was the only other one on duty at the moment, everyone else being either in bed or out and about doing other things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think Clay’s ankle is broken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eret grimaced and nodded. “It is. Bad let me know when he walked him in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki furrowed her eyebrows. “Why didn’t Bad heal him while he was there then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too tired.” Eret stretched, looking up at Clay’s monitor. “He’d been holding him still for around thirty minutes by the time he got there, more or less. You saw how he looked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had looked terrible, that much was true, but Niki had chalked up the circles under his eyes to whatever had made his expression so bleak and haunted. He’d kept up a wavering smile as he walked in triumphantly with Sapnap and George, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nikki nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Be careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki paused.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I will,” she said, emotions warring inside of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay looked up. Niki stood just outside the cell, door open just a crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” She lifted up the first aid kit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grunt. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened the door and crept inside. She avoided his eyes, choosing not to look at his face entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt his gaze as she took a knee in front of the cot where he was sitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the right one, yes?” she ventured. “I noticed earlier. I’ll splint it for you now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay hummed noncommittally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took out her things and waited for him to take his shoe off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did, and she worked in silence, making a neat splint that hopefully immobilized the break or sprain. She gave him a cold pack as well, and i think i’m writing this in the wrong order for first aid but whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” she said, finishing the wrapping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki wordlessly began packing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Nikki,” Clay said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up before she realized what she was doing, accidentally meeting his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened and she hurriedly ducked her head. Clay flinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry, oh my god, I’m sorry,” she said, packing up her things faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay huffed. “It’s fine.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, really, I forgot your mask was gone. I saw on the cams but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's fine. I just… can you bandage something else for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki risked a glance upwards. His hand was outstretched, the arm covered in a soiled strip of bloodied bandage all the way down to his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um… sure.” She glanced up again, carefully avoiding his eyes. “Sorry again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started to unwrap the bandage, looking at the accumulated dirt and grime from when he was on the run. He probably hadn’t had much time to shower, but given that he didn’t smell revolting, he’d probably found a way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...How’s Dr. Calico doing?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Niki startled a bit. “Your parrot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Calico was a little cream-coloured cockatiel that Dream had rescued a few years back, shortly after the founding of the Tower. He’d found her in an abandoned building, stuck in a cage that someone had stuffed in the chimney. Since they didn’t have an animal shelter up and running in the city yet, he’d taken her in, and she’d stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’ve been wondering, since I haven’t been able to feed her. What with being on the run and whatnot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Niki blinked. “Techno’s been taking care of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? How did that happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s funny, actually. Sapnap tried on the third day after you… left.” Niki said, clearing her throat. “She went mental on him. She bullied him out of the room, I think, and she was loose in the halls. Then, Techno grabbed her, and she calmed down.” She giggled. “I think you might have some trouble getting her back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snorted. “Imagine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, though! They’re inseparable,” she exclaimed. “She sits on his shoulder while he’s looking at reports, and he probably feeds her more often than he comes down for food himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, really? My own parrot probably likes Technoblade better than me. No way,” Dream chuckled. “And I lost a manhunt, too. I swear, the world is ending.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki chuckled, and the room fell into silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did they catch you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s face shuttered. He turned away slightly, his arms folding in on themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a pause, something about what Sapnap had said when he reported in, crossed her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait… you didn’t actually go to the Gauntlet, did you Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>did?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Why would you go there? That’s, like,” she struggled to find an adequate term, “the </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupidest</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing to do when your record, which everyone knows you care about, is broken. It doesn’t seem like you at all.” Nikki sat back on her legs, looking up at him in utter confusion. She looked back down when she realized what she was doing, but thankfully, Dream wasn’t looking at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brows were drawn. His gaze was faraway, a frustrated frown below it. “Look, maybe I went there to set up a meetup. Or like, a negotiation. Maybe I just wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said, slapping his hands down on the cot. He winced, realizing that Nikki was still half-in the middle of wrapping it up. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t move! I’m only halfway there, please stop moving.” Nikki moved to continue winding the bandage, but Dream stood up instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does it matter?” Dream said. “It doesn’t. All that happened, is that Bad caught me, and then they took my mask and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki’s gaze snapped up to meet Dream’s. She looked him full in the face, this time too shocked to look away. “They did what?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dream was looking at her now. He stared back down at her. His eyes were dark, maybe green, the colour eclipsed by the intensity of his gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nikki,” he said in a low tone, “why did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> my mask was gone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nikki’s mouth went dry. “... I didn’t think about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream broke the stare, turning to go examine the wall on the other side of the cell instead. They sat in silence for a little bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” he said, “now that everyone’s seen my face, that’s one mystery solved.” He snorted. “It was exciting. Everyone was like, clamoring to get a look at me. You should’ve been there,” he said offhandedly. His fists clenched and unclenched slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream… I hope you know that nobody wants to distrust you here. We’re still-- we still want to be your friends.” Nikki said, a lump rising in her throat. She swallowed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, right. Bad, apparently, still wanted to be friends enough that he broke the rules at the Gauntlet to catch me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He… what?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Dream glanced over his shoulder. “Gauntlet’s neutral ground, right?” He started fiddling with the vent screws on the top of the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” he grunted. “And they used an employee entrance to catch me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s… Why would Bad…” Nikki’s mind raced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy’s complex was a place anyone could go despite affiliation, past, or power to have fun or partake in friendly competition on the assortment of games, obstacle courses. It, and the main obstacle course, the Gauntlet, was explicitly declared by Skeppy to be neutral ground. As long as you didn’t bring fights, trash, or anything super illegal, you were allowed in, and that was that. Dream, even as a superhero, went frequently, and had held the record for the fastest run through the Gauntlet, at a startling two minutes and thirty-two point eight seconds, when most people could barely manage fifteen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad was the closest thing to a co-owner that Skeppy had. Despite the fact that Bad worked at the Tower, and was directly allied by contract with UNOH (who Skeppy had disagreed with for some years), he had helped him run the place for years. He set up events for visitors to compete in using their powers for small prizes, solved disputes between visitors, and even did the odd first aid for anyone who got hurt when he was in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad breaking Skeppy’s rules, and technically, his own, was unthinkable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Dream laughed bitterly. “I’m not sure who to trust anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream… please, It’s not like that.” Nikki moved to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he turned away brusquely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it?” He went back to the vent, tapping on it frustratedly, working a nail under the edge. “Tell me what part of it ‘isn’t like that’. Humour me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki balled her fists. “You killed someone. Or everyone thought you did. I didn’t want to believe it, but--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream glanced over his shoulder, eyes hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s part of it too! </span>
  <em>
    <span>I. Didn’t. Kill. Him.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He punctuated each word with a hard tap on his own chest. “Nobody believes me. Not now, not then. Do you all really think I’d kill someone? In cold blood? I didn’t even have a reason! Now--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vent came free in Dream’s hands, and he dropped it. Niki stared at him, in shock of his declaration, until she saw his hands in the open vent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a flash, she realized that if Dream had somehow disabled the Addyn, if he could use his powers </span>
  <em>
    <span>at that moment,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d be out the vent in the flash before she did anything. He’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>out, he could escape, he could--</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream cried out, falling to the floor. He crumpled on the ground, clutching his head, curling up in a ball.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stopped, Niki retracted her outstretched hand, releasing her power’s hold on his eardrums. He didn’t make a move to get up, laying on the floor, inert, like a doll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes met hers, in an anguished glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Nikki, I thought you should know that I found a loose grate earlier for Techno to fix.” he said, voice low.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked back at him, stricken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really not trust me that much?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream broke the stare, sighing and curling into himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he said in a raspy, broken voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A coin rolled out of his palm, travelling across the floor and resting at Nikki’s feet. “I noticed you could work the screws loose with a quarter. That’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gingerly picked up the small coin, hesitating. “I’m sorry, Clay,” she whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She left the room, picking up her first aid things, and closing the door behind him. He didn’t move from his spot on the floor the entire way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeah think what you want of this chapter. I'm not proud of the ending. I had something else in mind originally, but I burned out before I could put it there.</p><p>Enjoy</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi</p><p> </p><p>i don't know what im doing</p><p>this might get worse as i go along or better, im just doing this to have fun kjasfdhk</p><p> </p><p>hopefully i finish it leTS GOOOOOOOOO</p></blockquote></div></div>
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